A Night in the Myers House
by Bratney
Summary: “I’m Andi, I want to be your friend,” I said with a soft smile, “do you know what ‘friends’ is Michael? Know what friends do together?” Michael gives one psychology major the night she always wanted, and now he's back for more. Lemon. MichaelxOC.
1. Chapter 1

Michael Audrey Myers, the man that made Haddonfield what it was, the soul inhabitant of 45 Lampkin Lane, the serial killer who succeeded in killing the majority of his family. He was the reason behind my psychology major, the filler of my day, my full obsession. I needed to know how his mind worked.

I flipped through the pages in an old newspaper, fingering the yellowing pages lovingly. It dated back to the first days of Michael's incarceration, back when he was just a child. A child that, in my opinion, didn't know any better; he didn't know that killing someone was wrong, and the man in black hadn't been much of a help.

Today I was nervous and excited, terrified and collected. Today was the day I would be spending the night in the Myers' house. I was required for my psych class to do one hands on activity, one thing that was sure to make or break me in the eyes of Psychology. This was my chance to prove my theory on Michael, my chance to see what really went on at the Myers' house all those years ago.

I closed the newspaper and stood, looking around the empty library before turning out the lights and leaving the room. I locked the door behind me and headed down the front steps into the quiet afternoon. I loved the peace of working at the library, I could stay for however long and nobody would mind, as long as the door was locked the next morning when the head librarian opened the doors.

My cell phone rang a series of haunting cords that told me that someone was calling. I picked it up and greeted the person on the other end cheerfully, "Hey Izzy, are you sill coming tonight?" Isabella Landon was my best friend; the two of us were inseparable; basically joined at the hip.

"I can only stay a couple of hours," she replied. I could hear rustling of paper in the background and figured that she was still working on her English thesis. "I hate this homework thing, how am I going to spend Christmas Eve with my best friend when I have so much work to do?" She continued on grumbling as I walked down the street.

I let myself into my apartment and sat my book bag on the kitchen table, still listening to Izzy going on and on about her English Thesis. A small whimper came from the area around my feet and I could feel the pressure of something rubbing up against my legs. I chuckled lightly and bent down to pick up Confetti, my small tabby cat. I gently petted her and smiled, saying goodbye to Izzy and telling her I would meet her later at the Myers' house.

Me grabbed my Psychology notebook and flipped through it to my initial thoughts on Michael and information I have collected from his Psychologist, Dr. Samuel Loomis. Loomis' files, his thoughts, his collection of newspaper clippings, all photocopied and organized in a large three ringed binder. Loomis, a man that I don't agree with ninety-five percent of the time, but respect above all others.

_Michael Audrey Myers is a misunderstood, cursed soul. The curse of thorn and the influence of the Man in Black has caused him to murder these people. Michael does what he thinks is good for mankind, even if it does take away all the people he loves. Michael is known to show emotions to his family members, crying over having to kill his niece, Jamie Lloyd, when she was about 8 or 9._

_Michael is a survivor, he has been known to eat whatever is available, this includes: dogs, rats, and the possibility of human flesh. He has some sort of superhuman strength, able to pick up a human body without effort. He is also able to take multiple flesh wounds without causing his death._

_Michael is very sentimental; returning to and protecting his childhood home multiple times. He even went as far as to live in the sewers under the house to stay close by. He also kept Sam Loomis around, having the chance to kill the old man many times._

_Michael doesn't want us to "know" who he is, hence the mask. He covers up his face, hiding who he is inside so we can't see. The mask marks the killer, underneath there is more to him. He (not IT, as much as Loomis says otherwise) is human, and very likely has human emotions under the façade of his mask._

I read through my brief summery quickly and sighed, wondering if I could prove any of this by a visit to his house. A house that had been tampered with about two years ago by the people hosting "Dangertainment", nothing left could be the real Michael, could it?

I stuffed my papers in my backpack and grabbed my overnight bag; it was time to head out for the legendary house. Time to go exploring, time to delve into Michael's mind. I grabbed my jacket and locked my door behind me before setting off down the street toward my goal.

The house loomed in front of me, overwhelming. I moved my hair out of my face and stepped up the front steps. The door creaked open and I entered the dusty front room. I dropped my bag on the ground and pulled out my flashlight, leaving the rest of the contents where they were. I set off into the next room, taking everything I saw with a grain of salt.

There had been some smoke damage from the burning garden building. It smelled strange, but the main house was intact. I uncovered a couch and sat down waiting for Izzy, idly fidgeting with the flashlight and my hair.

I kind of lost track of time for awhile as I sat and stared at the dusty floor, I was lost in thought and didn't even hear the floorboards creak when Izzy snuck up behind me. She tapped me on the shoulder and I whirled around with a squeak. It took a moment to figure out that it was just her; another second for the anger to sink in, then I smacked her hard on the arm.

Izzy laughed at me and rolled her eyes, "Come on Andi let's go explore this place!" She grabbed my hand, switched on her flashlight, and pulled me out of the living room. For this being my night, she was sure being the pushy one on this expedition.

We chatted quietly, not wanting to disturb the quiet in the house as we looked around. There wasn't much left after the last group of people had messed it all up. Not to mention that there had been others living in the house before Freddy and his sick joke he tried to pull on the world. It seemed like we were just playing, there wasn't much evidence left to go on.

Izzy had plopped down on a bed in what had to have been Judith's room and looked up at me, "Are you really going to sleep here? It's dusty, gross, and boring. What if he comes back?" She propped herself up on her elbows and looked around the room, "It's amazing how many people he's killed in this building over the years."

I rolled my eyes at her and sat down in a chair, "Yes, I'm going to stay here, I don't think it's boring at all. If he comes back, it was nice knowing you. And everyone will know I died doing what I love."

"Yeah, your obsession with Michael Myers will be your downfall, fantastic!" She said and looked down at her watch. "This is where I leave you, my friend. Good night and good luck." She crawled off of the bed and stretched, before we walked down to the front door.

I said my goodbyes and turned back into the empty house, "So, it's just you and me. Where should we start?"

I started my more thorough search in the living room, going through everything I could find in every room in the house until about two o'clock in the morning. By that time I couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. Refusing to lie down until I made my way back to the living room and the only piece of furniture in the house I trusted, I stood and dusted myself off. Coughing as the dust floated up into my face.

When I was safely back in the living room and laying down on the less than comfortable old couch, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to everything that had happened in this old house. The family Michael had, why he did it, and him coming back for more. It didn't take long until I had entered a fitful sleep.

I hit the floor with a loud thud, snapping awake almost instantly. I managed to convince myself that the only reason that I had woken up was because I had fallen off my small makeshift bed. I sighed and crawled back up, looking out the window to the sun rising in the distance, it was beautiful. The pinks and oranges blended together, leaving a soft smile on my face. My eyelids felt heavy so I rolled back onto the couch, head rested on the arm.

My eyes snapped open, and in desperate attempt to get away I landed once again on the ground, this time not as graceful as before. I was twisted in a very uncomfortable position as I scrambled to get away. I screamed out as metal dug into my skin, the pain taking me by surprise. The masked figure turned his head to examine me. He hadn't moved from his position behind the couch, so he was probably wondering why I was whimpering and clutching at my side.

A loose nail in the floorboards had cut me as I was trying to get away, not being a person with a high tolerance for pain the small, bloody cut left me feeling very vulnerable.

After a few seconds my focus shifted back to the bigger threat in the room, how long had he been standing behind that couch watching me? It could have been hours, but something inside me told me I wouldn't have been alive if that were the case.

I managed to stand, still watching the man in front of me, this was my Michael, the reason I was here. I let out a breath, saying the only thing that came to my mind, "It's you!" I regretted saying anything after watching his eyes go from a look of curiosity to one of anger. His hand visibly tightened around the kitchen knife held in it.

I took a step toward him, watching for a reaction. It took another step for his eyes to widen in surprise. "Michael, I think I understand," I whispered, stopping in my tracks, not wanting to get any closer in case it was a ruse to make me come nearer. "You're just trying to save everyone, aren't you? Didn't the Man in Black tell you that you could make the world better if only you killed off your family?"

I reached out with my hand, wanting to touch him but not having the guts to actually do it. "Isn't that why you've been doing this Michael? You're killing everyone that loved you, everyone that tried to stop you, just so you could restore balance in our imperfect world."

No response. But that had to be it, after all that I'd read, child-like innocence mixed with the menacing influence of a deranged mind had to be what caused all of this. I had gathered enough courage at this time to reach out and tentatively touch his arm, the couch still between us, giving me a small shield.

He reacted immediately; going from the docile, curious creature that had hung on my every word, to grabbing me and pulling me toward him, his knife poised and ready. He was on high alert, ready to kill me if I so much as breathed funny.

"Michael please, I'm not trying to stop you," I said, panic evident in my voice, "I'm not trying to hurt you like the rest of them." He loosened his grip on me; I could see his internal struggle in his eyes, to kill the girl or not?

He pushed me away from him, and I stumbled with the force of it. He took a few steps back to watch me. I was sure he wanted me to turn and run, but I was getting through to him. In our own weird way, we were communicating. I wasn't going to leave now, knowing I had screwed up my one chance.

I laced my fingers in front of me, watching him watching me. "I need to sit down," I said moving slowly toward the couch, "do you want to sit with me?" I gradually sank down to the overstuffed cushions on the couch, turning my head to look at him. To my great surprise, he sat down next to me, far enough away that I'd have to lean over if I wanted to touch him. Far enough away that if he wanted to hurt me, I could have time to get up and run.

"I'm Andi, I want to be your friend," I said with a soft smile, "do you know what 'friends' is Michael? Know what friends do together?"

He reached out so quick that I didn't see what was coming; I let out a startled shriek and jumped back, his fingers trailing along with my face. I relaxed when it clicked in my mind that he wasn't trying to hurt me. I pulled myself closer to him, showing him that he wasn't scaring me anymore.

His fingers traced down my cheekbone and across my lips with hardly enough pressure to even tell that they were there. I sucked in a sharp breath and I closed my eyes as his fingers traveled down my throat.

I didn't want to stop him, didn't what to tell him this was, in fact, not the way friends acted. I didn't want to break it to him that this behavior was more like that of a boyfriend or a lover. I didn't want him to stop, even if it was just the caress of his fingers.

I let out a small sigh as his fingers met the fabric of my shirt; I realized he was watching my face looking for a sign that he hadn't crossed any boundaries, that I wanted him to keep going. I looked into his black eyes and nodded in encouragement, "You can touch me. I won't stop you."

I was rewarded with his other hand reaching out to pull at the bottom of my shirt. I leaned back slowly and grabbed the fabric, pulling it off over my head so he would have more skin to touch.

His eyes visibly widened as my skin and bra came into view, his fingers giving up their previous search to trace over the black, lacy fabric on my chest. I sucked in my breath as warm fingers met cool skin, tracing over the tops of my breasts.

"Michael," I said with a low groan reaching up to stop his hand, "we should stop; this isn't how friends act together." I had forced myself to say it; taking advantage of his ignorance would weigh heavily on my conscious for a long time if I let him go through with this.

He gave me a look, a look that shot daggers at me, and pressed harder at my skin. His fingers dipped down inside my bra to run along the taut flesh of my nipple. I let out a moan and closed my eyes, letting him continue his search of my skin.

I reached up behind me and unclasped my bra, slowly letting the fabric slide down my arms to expose my breasts. As soon as the fabric was pulled away and discarded on the dusty floor, his hand made its way up to cup my breast, his thumb rubbing carefully across the nipple. I let out an encouraging whimper and pulled myself closer to him, wanting to be able to feel his skin on mine.

I reached up watchfully and grasped the zipper to his outfit between my fingers. His body was tense, but he let me lower it down to his hips and push the fabric off of his shoulders to fall on the couch behind him.

My fingers traced his skin just as gently as his was on mine. He had scars littered across his chest and stomach; I took great care in running my fingers over each of them, marveling at how he had survived something like that.

His hands were at my waist, trying to pull me up against him. He was unsuccessfully trying to satisfy the need that was so visibly straining against his pants. I pulled away, watching him watch me as I made quick work of my pants and underwear. I pressed myself against him seconds later, completely naked.

He pushed me back on the couch, clearly taking control of the situation once again. His uniform had vanished in the minute it took his body to lay on top of mine, and I could feel his warmth pressed against my skin.

He slowly slid inside of me, letting out a noise from the back of his throat that sounded like a mix between a groan and a grunt. I let out a whimper, digging my fingers into his back, holding on for dear life.

He pulled out and thrust back in quickly, an experiment that made my whole body shake. His body started a rhythm that I matched thrust for thrust. Each thrust was powerful, an emptiness filled seconds later by a fullness that was enough to force a moan from my lips. I watched him, his head was thrown back with the pleasure of it all, eyes closed, just feeling.

I reached down between us and ran a finger slowly over my clit, causing me to climax around him. He came soon after, and we collapsed on the sofa, breathing hard against each other. I ran a hand gently down his back, a sleepy smile on my face.

It took about five minutes for me to find my voice, "Next time Michael, we do it in my room." I laughed and kissed him lightly on his rubber cheek. Not wanting him to get up and leave just yet, knowing I would have to leave soon to type up my report, leaving out all the good parts that's for sure.

He moved minutes later, scrambling around to find his jumpsuit. I took that as a sign to get dressed as well. We watched each other for a few minutes before my cell phone went off in the front room, startling both of us out of our afterglow.

I moved quickly, answering it before it could switch over to voicemail. "Hey girl, what's up? You still alive?" Izzy asked on the other end of the phone with a laugh.

"Yeah, It was one hell of a night," I said with a sigh and a pleased smile, "I fucked Michael Myers."

_**AN: My Christmas present to all my favorite Horror movie readers! Especially to **__**8yume who asked for more Michael and made me motivated to finish this. What do you think? Want to know more?**_

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Michael, or Halloween.**_


	2. Chapter 2

It was a week later that Izzy and I were sitting on my bed in my room, celebrating the completion of our term papers and what they meant in this New Year. A bottle of sparkling cider sat on the bedside table as we lay amongst the pillows laughing at the T.V. that was flashing the images of our favorite movie, Labyrinth, across the screen.

We had talked, extensively, on my night with Michael. Izzy drank down the details like she'd die without them, bugging me for more information. She didn't approve, far from it, but she understood that he had given me a gift that I would carry with me forever.

Tonight wasn't a night for talking of important things, in a few days time we'd be summoned back to our classes to turn in the papers we had written and neither of us wanted to think about anything that connected to school.

We had watched a series of movies today already, each different from the last. We started with 'Love Actually' for the lovely and talented Alan Rickman, then moved on to 'Mozart and the Whale' for a dose of Josh Harnett, that was followed by 'I Know Who Killed Me' for a few glimpses of Neal McDonough, all finished up with the great David Bowie in the 'Labyrinth'. We had giggled our way through the day, snacking on popcorn and having impromptu pillow fights along the way.

The movie was wrapping up, and I soon would be left alone again, alone in my dizzying thoughts of Michael and why he had done what he had done. I could have been that he had a craving for human affection, or perhaps that he really thought that was what friends did together. I shook my head and tried to focus on the closing lines of the movie, laughing as Sir Didymus suggested a game of scrabble.

Minutes later, Izzy and I were standing at the front door, arms wrapped around each other in a hug. "See you Monday Andi!" she said and ran out into the cold to reach her car. I turned back inside and sighed, looking around the emptiness to possibly spark something to do. I sighed and made my way to the kitchen, it was time to make dinner.

I pulled out all the ingredients to make beef fajitas and started cooking, humming along to the radio as its soft music floated across the room. I was lost in thought, lost in the words to the music that seemed to go along perfectly with my life. I sat down at my small kitchen table and began eating, pouring myself another glass of sparkling cider.

After that, it was shower time. It was time to let the relaxing flow of the hot water consume me and beat away all the stress and emotional pain. I ran my fingers over my flushed, wet skin, letting them sooth the stress and stir up feelings that made everything else disappear.

It was about a half-an-hour later when I stepped out of my shower, grabbing a towel to wrap around my body. I headed into my bedroom and busied myself with sliding into my green-silk nightgown and matching come-hither underwear. Then back to the bathroom to brush the tangles out of my hair.

With an aggravated sigh I set the brush down and went back to my room to clean up the spilled popcorn Confetti hadn't eaten, just to keep me busy in the time before I grew tired enough to go to bed.

I had the entire bedroom clean, along with part of the living room by the time I started to feel the exhaustion take over my body. I sighed and went to wash the cleaning chemicals off of my hands, then put some food and water in Confetti's dish for the night. With a sigh of fatigue I headed down the hall and opened my bedroom door.

I had to stifle a scream when I saw the large figure lounging against the headboard on my previously un-rumpled bed. He was just as I had remembered him; his blue mechanics uniform and white mask stood out against the black of my bedding.

"What are you doing here Michael?" I asked walking to the side of the bed to look at him. I reached out and he took my hand in his, reaching up with the other to brush across my face. I closed my eyes for a second, enjoying the sensation of his skin against mine.

I sat down on the bed, content to just look at him for a minute. Satisfied to just watch him and make sure he was real, not just a figure created by my overactive imagination. It was a few minutes before another yawn took me and I nearly blacked out from the force of it. I sleepily muttered something unintelligible, then snapped out of it enough to say, "Michael, I need to sleep, you're welcome to stay with me if you want."

His only answer was to gently pull me down next to him, his hand possessively around my waist. I cautiously moved closer, snuggling into his warmth. He must have decided that he was going to keep me, that he trusted me enough to let me into his life. I sighed happily; a hand pressed against his chest, and fell into a contented slumber.

The next morning it was cold, freezing to be exact, and the body that should have been in the bed next to mine was no longer present between the sheets. I sat up and frantically looked around the room, watching for movement or the large body of my missing bed mate. When none came I scrambled out of bed and made my way out of the room and down the hall, looking for my Michael.

I found him sitting on the couch looking at my photo book. Photos of me and photos of friends and family covered the pages. Some even dated back to when I was just a baby. I laughed and sat down next to him, "See that woman right there? That's my mom, the guy next to her is one of her previous boyfriends I think his name is Kevin." He flipped the page and pointed to another picture and I complied with an answer, "That's me and Izzy, we were at the store acting like idiots." This treatment continued on until we reached the end of the book, it felt nice to share some of my past with him.

I stood and stretched, leaving Michael to go back through the book if he wanted. I went into the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of cereal before going back to join him on the couch. Now he was looking through my files on him, looking up to give me a quizzical look.

"What?" I asked with a shrug, "Why else did you think I was going through your house? I'm obsessed with you." I leaned up and pressed a kiss on his cheek, pulling back quickly when he tensed up, "Sorry."

He slowly shook his head and pulled me to him, pressing me up against his body, his hands ran up and down my back, then down farther to pull up the hem of my nightgown. I gasped lightly and leaned up to make the fabric come up easier, pressing my lips lightly against his plastic ones. This time he responded, pressing the plastic lips tentatively back against mine.

He managed to get the fabric up over my head and onto the floor before running his fingers down my front to play with my already tightening nipples. I let out a shallow breath before I went to work on his zipper, pulling it down slowly as I shivered at his touch.

Remembering my last comment to Michael the last time we had done this I stood and tried to pull him with me. "To the bed," I managed to get out as I walked away from him and down the hallway.

Before I realized what was happening I was picked up and dropped unceremoniously onto the bed. I let out a little 'omph' that was quickly turned into a moan as my panties were pulled off and a finger pressed against my clit.

All too soon the pleasant friction was gone; I let out a small whine and looked up at my 'captor' before I felt him push into me. I bit my lip to hold back a scream and shut my eyes as tight as I could.

He moved slowly and gently inside of me, showing me that he isn't the animal that everyone thinks he is. His thrusts hardened toward the end, his breathing becoming erratic and he placed his forehead up against mine. We climaxed together, his fingers lacing through mine as we came down off of our high.

"Wow," I said with a smile and snuggled in closer to him, "that was amazing." I kissed his cheek and he rolled off of me, pulling me up against his side. I laid my head on his chest and breathed in the scent that was purely Michael.

Moments later a sound pulled me out of my happy place, then a scratching noise on the door. I laughed and sat up; listening for Confetti's hungry mewling to come once again. "Come on Michael, time to get dressed and feed the cat."

His eyes held exasperation as I smiled down at him and rolled out of the bed. I grabbed jeans and a t-shirt and got dressed before heading into the hall to pick up the cat. I smiled over my shoulder at the figure of Michael who was standing behind me, "You haven't been introduced to my baby! This is Confetti, the pain in the butt cat that I love."

The cat jumped out of my arms and ran down the hall into the kitchen, I followed and stopped when I saw the figure standing in front of me, "Izzy, what are you doing here?"

She bent down and scooped some food into the cat's bowl, "I dropped by to bring you a new Michael article for your collection. Why? What's up?" She stopped and her jaw dropped, her eyes widening in shock.

I turned to see a ridged Michael standing there, body ridged, kitchen knife held firmly in hand. I made my way over to him quickly, "No Michael, she's a friend, you can't."

He glared down at me, then back up at Izzy before dropping the knife on the counter. I wrapped my arm around him, trying to make him ease up a bit. His body didn't ease, but his eyes were gentle when he looked down at me. "Come on Michael; let's go sit back on the couch. Izzy, you should leave, I'll call you later."

She nodded and left the house, laughing at me as she walked away. I chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Thanks for not hurting her, she's my best friend, I couldn't live without her." He pulled me closer and nuzzled my cheek with his face.

He had come back to me, my Michael, that's all I needed right now. Today would be a day of comfort, just me and him. And, of course, the cat.

_**AN: Chapter two, for the two people who originally read and reviewed. I hope you both like this second chapter, I know it isn't as long, but I had to write something!**_


	3. Chapter 3

His hand wrapped around my neck as he pushed me up against the wall, his eyes flashed with something that I somewhat remembered from that first night that I met him. I looked down, not understanding why this was happening.

The cat, my baby, was meowing at the door to the room, responding to my single cry of surprise. My breathing was growing erratic and I couldn't see. It didn't take long before I floated into unconsciousness, I knew that I was going to die; I could feel it in my bones.

Everything hurt, it was too bright, and I felt like my head had been split open with a pick-ax. I closed my eyes tighter, trying to block out the painful light and the horrid memories of why I was this way.

It had only been a week since Michael had come back to me; we were hardly ever apart except for when I was in classes, and I only had three hours of classes every morning. The rest of the time I spent with Michael: watching movies, cuddling, or having sex.

I don't know what I did to make him so angry, or why he had hurt me; I had kissed him, the found myself up against a wall.

My hand went to my throat, and touched the bruised flesh; I grimaced, and rolled out of bed. It was a fact that I'd be wearing turtleneck sweaters to classes the next few days. Two long steps brought me to the door, and opening it showed me that Confetti was still alive and waiting to be fed.

My head was throbbing; the many thoughts floating around in there didn't do it much good either. I had been happy just being with him, and so was he, at least he never gave any indication that he wasn't enjoying my presence. On the contrary, he always found a way to be near me, unless I was in class. Even when I was doing homework he had to be right there, constantly touching me.

The previous day, I had just gotten back to the apartment from a relatively stressful few hours of class. My Abnormal Psychology teacher had just given us a six page paper, as did my Theories of Personality teacher. I had also been hit on by a group of guys as I left the Psychology building, they had followed me most of the way home before loosing interest and leaving me be. After all that I just wanted to be alone with my Michael.

That had been when I tried to kiss him, and he hurt me. Now he was gone and my little apartment felt so empty without his constant presence. I could hear the clock ticking on the wall, an endless reminder of the seconds going by while I was sitting here alone. Confetti joined me on the couch after her meal and sat on my lap, demanding the attention I hadn't been able to give her lately. Halfheartedly I stroked her fur, letting my mind drift off into nothingness for awhile.

I had been sitting there an hour when impulsively, I picked up the phone and dialed, shifting my weight on the couch so I was laying there looking at the sealing. When the voice on the other end answered I let out my breath and smiled to myself, "Hey Izzy, want to have a movie night? It's time for girl talk, don't forget the ice cream."

It wasn't long before we were both sitting on the floor in our pajamas eating chocolate ice cream and watching Edward Scissorhands. Though neither of us were really paying attention to our favorite Johnny Depp character at the moment, we were discussing what had happened between me and Michael.

"I think you're psycho for letting the guy touch you," Izzy said licking her spoon before sticking it back in her bowl, "you knew what he was capable of, you're lucky you are still alive." Izzy hadn't thought the relationship healthy from the start, but she was one to keep her mouth shut, unless she turned out to be right in the long run.

"I don't think he wanted to kill me to begin with," I said with a shrug, "he would have done that when I first met him if he wanted to." I grabbed a handful of purple sprinkles and busied myself with licking them out of my hand, when I was finished I continued, "I think he just got mad at something, and then he took it out on me."

"What would your professors say if they knew?" Izzy wondered dramatically her hand pressed to her forehead, I pushed her playfully and sighed, turning my attention to Edward on the TV. She followed suit and we watched the remainder of the movie in what was very close to silence.

When the credits started to roll Izzy stretched and looked at me, grabbing one of the ice cream dishes away from Confetti, "So what are you going to do?" We were back on that subject once again.

The question was so simple, and it should have a easy answer, but I was so lost all I could do was bury my head between my knees and let out a strangled sob. I couldn't even put to words how I felt in that moment; my obsession with the masked man had turned into something much more in the few days since I had met him. The worst part in all this was he wasn't around anymore to hear me say it out loud.

A hand touched my shoulder running gently up and down my back, something that I hadn't had done to me in a long time. I let out a sniffle, trying to control the tears that had made their way down my face. Footsteps and a gasp made my head shoot up, who was touching me if Izzy had been in the kitchen this whole time?

The hand trailed up and lightly fingered the bruised skin on my neck, then up to my chin then across my lips. I looked into the dark eyes of my masked man, fear flashing across my face and took over my eyes. I let out a whimper and tried to pull away, not wanting to let him hurt me again.

His other hand reached out and stopped me from moving back, pulling me forward to place a plastic kiss on my lips. He pulled back when he felt my body stiffen up and tilted his head to the side, running his fingers once again over the bruised flesh on my neck. I shivered involuntarily, enjoying the cold of his fingers on my overheated skin.

"Why did you do it Michael?" I asked reaching up to hold his hand against my neck. I looked over his shoulder at Izzy, who quickly turned and made her way back into the kitchen, probably to finish cleaning up our dirty dishes. Quickly I looked back at him, trying to get the answers I wanted out of the silent man.

He just shook his head and kissed me again, I melted into it this time, closing my eyes and letting out a quiet whimper. I don't know if it was a coping mechanism on his part, a form of undoing, but I wasn't going to get a answer out of him, at least not right now. I gave into temtation and pulled my body closer to him, touching his face with my hands and sighing in contentment. He felt right.

"I'll just be going," I heard Izzy's voice behind us, "be careful Andi, I don't want you to get hurt." I pulled myself away enough to flash her a smile and nod in her direction before she turned to leave. The door closing signaled she was gone, and that we were now alone again. Part of me was afraid, but most of me wanted this.

I felt myself leave the floor, as strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me up against a muscular chest. It was time for bed, my body was exhausted and all I wanted was to curl up against my masked serial killer for the night.

Things were looking up again, but there was still a bit of worry in the back of my mind that this wasn't the last time I was going to get hurt in one of his fits or rage. We'll have to cross that bridge when when we get to it.

_**AN: Hey everyone, sorry this chapter took so long to come out with. I haven't been in a horror movie mood. I hope it has just enough violence and emotional torment for all of you. If you hadn't noticed, I like to focus on the more mushy part of the romance… not the potential danger.**_


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